


Dangerous Wizards and Where to Find Them

by Syrena_of_the_lake



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 06:56:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16279817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syrena_of_the_lake/pseuds/Syrena_of_the_lake
Summary: On the way to Ach-To, a slight navigational deviation takes theFalconto a galaxy much, much closer to home.





	Dangerous Wizards and Where to Find Them

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flipflop_diva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/gifts).



_"That wizard’s just a crazy old man. You stay away from him, you hear me? He’s dangerous." – Owen Lars about Obi-Wan Kenobi, Star Wars: Episode IV_

* * *

The problem with blindly following unknown maps, Chewbacca would later reflect, was that unknown hyperspace trails could dump you in some unknown corner of the galaxy without a map for the return journey. In the heat of the moment, he said something much less philosophical, but the sentiment was the same.

"Keep your fur on," said Rey absently, "this feels right."

No matter how much she sounded like Han, Chewie begged to differ. Vociferously.

"How could we be in the wrong place? We followed the map—"

Chewie growled.

"Well, yes, except for the slight detour, but it wasn’t more than a few klicks, and surely Luke wouldn’t have wanted us to fly through an asteroid belt?"

Chewie tilted his head in consideration. "Rooaargh hrrwoo." He wasn't even exaggerating. It _wouldn't_ be the first time.  

Ret tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "We followed the map," she insisted, "mostly, and besides — it _feels right_."

He hummed doubtfully, but Chewie was never one to doubt the workings of the Force. At least, not in front of a fledgling Jedi. 

If Rey was right, they were only one short hyperspace jump away from their final destination. If she was wrong, they’d probably wind up in the middle of a star and the debate would be moot. Chewie shrugged and pulled the lever. Outside the viewport, the stars elongated and morphed into the whirling vortex of hyperspace. 

The first sign of trouble came from Artoo. The little droid squealed an alarm half a second before the ship shuddered.

"I know something’s wrong with the hyperdrive!" Rey shouted over the blaring alarms, bellowing Wookiee and frantically beeping droid. "I’m cutting power."

Chewie howled a protest.

"I have a good feeling about this!" Rey already had her hand on the lever. Her voice was confident, but Chewie could smell her sweat. "Besides, we haven’t any choice."

Chewie moaned.

Rey pulled the ship out of hyperspace with a lurch and an ominous groan. Then, for the second time in Chewie’s recent memory, the _Falcon_  plummeted towards a too-close planet only to skip like a stone across a snow-covered hillside, bashing through boulders and spraying snow and debris in its wake. Chewie spared a moment of regret for the newly installed deflector dish as it went spinning off into the woods. 

He slapped a heavy paw at the controls, launching a tow cable at the mountainside speeding past them. He knew to trust Rey’s connection with the Force, as he had trusted Luke and Leia for so many years. He also knew they were headed for the edge of a cliff — again, for the second time in recent memory — and that Jedi weren’t the only ones with survival instincts.

The tow cable snapped out, clutched at the rock, and slipped. Then, inexplicably, the ship shuddered to a halt.

Artoo twittered the question before Chewie could voice it himself.

"It wasn’t me," gasped Rey, pushing herself upright. The abrupt stop had slammed her into the console, but she waved off Chewie’s concern. "I’m fine. What _was_ that?"

Tractor beam, planet-bound gravity well, giant spaceship-eating-worm... Chewie’s imagination supplied many options, each as unlikely as the last. He shrugged and pointed out the viewport, where an old man with a beard stood knee-deep in the snow, beaming at them.

Rey glanced at Chewie. "Is that Luke?" she asked uncertainly.

He growled a negative.

"Then who...?"

Chewie glanced sideways at her and grunted.

"Ask him? Oh."

The answer, when it came, was less informative than they might have wished.

"I am Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," the old man introduced himself when the trio disembarked. "At your service, and that of your — is he a Yeti, my dear? I must confess I’ve never seen a brown-haired one. American Bigfoot, perhaps?"

Perplexed, Chewie bared his fangs.

"No? Well, then you won’t try to dismember me if I invite you in for tea? Ah, splendid."

* * *

As she trudged through the snow, Rey noticed how the swirling flakes never seemed to stick to Albus Brian... no, Wilfrid Dumblebus... blast it, why did one man have so many _names?_

Whoever he was, the cold and snow seemed not to affect him. Rey was used to freezing desert nights, although the snow was new — and delightfully wet. She stuck out her tongue and almost bit it in surprise when she felt the cold flakes dissolve with a tingle. 

Artoo was struggling in their wake, and poor Chewbacca looked miserable. The snow was sticking to his fur in little balls. Rey felt bad for them both, but she couldn’t help loving this snowy, windswept place. She wasn’t at all daunted by the climb to the distant fortress or the enigmatic old man leading the way. Despite Chewie’s grumblings of misgiving, she was sure Albus Brian or whatever his names were would be a friend.

The first sign of trouble came from Artoo.

"Yeeeooow!" The little droid’s dome spun. His maintenance tools all popped out, the electrowelder emitting intermittent sparks.

Chewie roared an alarm. Rey dropped to her knees in front of Artoo’s diagnostic panel.

"Oh dear," sighed Albus Brian Whiffledoor (she really needed to ask him to repeat his name, Rey fretted even as she tried to reroute Artoo’s wiring around the mysterious short). "I was afraid this might happen when we passed through the wards. Electricity and magic do not mix well, you see."

"Magic? Do you mean the Force?" Rey was puzzled. She hadn’t had any trouble with machines — much the opposite. She hadn’t dared dismantle Luke’s lightsaber to see how it worked, but surely it harnessed both electrical forces and the Force itself?

The old man stroked his beard. "Interesting. But perhaps you would like to take your little friend back to your ship?"

He and Chewie regarded each other. The Wookiee rumbled something about not wanting to leave her alone with a stranger. Rey looked at him in exasperation, wishing her vocal chords were capable of producing a suitable Shyriiwook scolding without letting Albus Wolfram Percy know that Chewie treated her like a youngling.

But the old man smiled kindly as if he understood. "Of course, I will accompany you. Let me give you a hand." Suiting action to words, he waved a hand and Artoo floated into the air. He bobbed along as the procession retraced their steps back to the _Falcon_. Albus Percival (whatever should she call him?) seemed to do something to the air so that the snow whirled around them instead of driving into their faces. 

"Would you care to take it from here, my dear?" He motioned to Artoo.

Rey looked at him uncertainly. "I don’t know how," she admitted.

"Feel the shape of him in the air, the weight in your mind," he instructed. "Think of your Force like an extension of your hands. Wrap them around your robot, support his weight like so — there, you have it!" He clapped his hands in delight. "Well done, my dear — what did you say your name was?"

"Rey," she answered. "Just Rey."

His smile was kind. "And you may call me Albus."

"Thank you," Rey said in genuine relief. "This is Chewbacca, everyone calls him Chewie. And the droid is Artoo-Detoo. Do you think he'll be all right? Does your fortress have some kind of shield that shorted him out?"

"I suppose you could call it that. We call them wards, and they are built by spells, not generated by machines."

Chewie made a disparaging noise. Rey opened her mouth to say something more polite and prevaricating, but again Albus surprised her by seeming to understand without a translation.

"Much of our magic works with spells," he explained, "and interacts poorly with electrical machinery. Our brightest researchers have been examining the problem for centuries with mixed results. I know of a particular Ford Anglia that reacted quite unexpectedly to the combination of the two forces, but I digress. So this is your spaceship, I presume? How cozy."

Rey glanced at Chewie. She was sure the _Falcon_ had been called many things, but she doubted cozy was one of them.

* * *

While Rey repaired Artoo's innards, Albus went around poking his beard into various corners and crannies around the _Falcon_. Chewie followed him closely, occasionally yanking something out of the old man's hands and growling about meddlesome old wizards.

"Quite so!" Albus agreed, beaming. "Many of my colleagues at Hogwarts have said much the same. Alas, the school is mostly empty over the Christmas holiday, so you won't have the chance to commiserate with them."

"School?" Rey looked up from her work. "Do you have other students like me?" In her eagerness, she almost tripped over her words. "Studying magic, I mean, like I want to study the Force and become a Jedi?"

Albus smiled gently. "They are younger than you are, my dear, but yes — and there is one boy in particular who is very much like you. I remember his first day at Hogwarts. He seemed to drink in magic! Everything was wondrous to him then." He sighed. "Yet there are terrible magics in the world also."

"The Dark Side," whispered Rey. Chewie's fur flattened.

Albus nodded. "I regret to hear it plagues your world as well, wherever you are from, my dear."

"I'm from nowhere," said Rey reflexively.

Albus peered at her over his half-moon glasses. "There I would disagree with you, young Rey. Wherever you are from must be someplace indeed, for you to be from there."

Rey frowned, trying to untangle the sentence.

"I must admit, however, that even the dustiest corner of your galaxy would seem marvelous to an old man who has never left his own planet," Albus added. His eyes twinkled. "Tell me about the stars."

"Tell me about the Force," responded Rey promptly. "Magic, I mean. Teach me, and I'll tell you everything I can." No one lived on Jakku without learning to drive a hard bargain.

In response, Albus waved a stick in the air and a tea set appeared on the Dejarik table. Rey gaped at it.

"I did promise you tea," he said, and the pot poured itself. "One lump or two, my dear?"

Rey sank back to the floor. Artoo tootled at her questioningly. "One, please." She didn’t know what the lumps woule be, but one sounded preferable to two.

The wizard, as he’d called himself, waved his stick again and a single small, white cube dropped off the end and fell with a splash into Rey’s cup. 

"I didn’t know the Force could do anything like that," she said.

"I don’t know that it can," Albus replied cheerfully, "but the magic of this world is another matter. Biscuit?"

* * *

After that, Artoo stayed on the ship. A steady stream of owls dropped off books, nonmagical tomes and references that the droid promptly scanned, digitized and stored in the _Falcon’s_ computer. Chewie reluctantly accepted that his presence would cause an unnecessary stir at the school, nearly empty though it was, so he divided his time between repairs and hunting in the forest. Which is where a large, hairy man found him one morning shortly after Chewie shot a large, hairy arachnid with his crossbow.

"Leave ‘im be! He wasn’t doing no harm!" bellowed the man.

Chewie watched in puzzlement as the man stooped over the fallen spider and spoke to it in soft, soothing tones.

The Wookiee cocked his head. "Haaurrgh?"

Unlike Albus, the large man didn’t understand his query. 

"I suppose you were huntin’ and thought you’d caught yerself a right fat dinner — but he’s got rights same as — say, I’ve never seen yer kind before." The large man straightened up, and the spider scrambled off into the forest. Chewie sighed. So much for dinner.

"I’m Hagrid," the large man announced, dusting off his mitts and thrusting one towards Chewie. "You must be one of Dumbledore’s secret guests, now. Great man, Dumbledore, great man. Don’t suppose you’d like a cuppa?" 

A cup of _what?_ Chewbacca wondered. Mystified, he shrugged and nodded.

His new friend beamed. He was almost as hairy as a Wookiee, although it was admittedly hard to tell where the beard ended and the coat began. "Nice to talk to someone withou’ lookin’ down at ‘em," rumbled Hagrid. "Are all your kind big-boned? Tree-climber, are ye? Got the build for it. Must be somethin’ else, to live in the trees."

Hagrid kept enough conversation going for both of them, so Chewie limited himself to a few interrogative noises every now and then. He gathered the school was a rather lonely place when most of the students were gone, and to his surprise the Wookiee found he didn’t mind the company.

The rock cakes weren’t even all that bad, once he figured out how not to chip his incisors.

* * *

Rey supposed one could call it training, although she had no idea whether any of the magic she was learning would apply when she got back to her own galaxy.  _If_ she ever got back.

Sometimes she wondered whether Albus was training her for her war or his own. And yet, was this world any less worth saving? 

Rey was able to set aside her troubled musings only because any debate was moot. Until Artoo and the  _Falcon's_ navicomputer could get a better fix on their current location relative to their origin, there was literally no way for them to return. Rey had no way of sending word, no way of knowing how much precious time was slipping away, no way of knowing whether Finn was still alive... she could only believe that it would all work out for the best.

Optimism was not common on Jakku. If she had been able to cultivate it there, surely she could do so here... wherever  _here_ was.

In the meantime, Rey took full advantage of Albus's time, regardless of whether he was trying to do the same to her. She absorbed everything she could about healing, defense, concealment and other useful charms. Some spells never worked for her, and she could never get the hang of Albus’s wand, which sparked and twitched whenever she grasped it. Oddly, the lightsaber seemed to gradually mold its housing into a more comfortable grip for her hand, and she felt more and more attuned to the humming of the blade.

She tried asking Albus. "Why would it change for me? All the legends say that Jedi must make their own lightsabers."

Albus twinkled at her. "The wand chooses the wizard, my dear." It didn’t entirely make sense, but it also didn’t _not_  make sense, which Rey figured was about as much as she could hope for.

Despite their many hours together, Rey could not manage to decipher Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore (although she _finally_  knew all his names in order) any more than she could wave his wand and conjure more than sparks. And yet, during all his patient training and teaching, Rey sensed a growing urgency. At first she thought it was her own, or Chewie's. Then, late one morning, she happened to catch Albus's gaze. He was distracted, and she couldn't help but wonder what tremendously important tasks she was keeping him from...

And then she saw.

A black-haired boy with a red-and-gold tie. A black-haired boy with a green-and-silver tie. The blur of a striking snake. The blur of a snake drawn in smoke, striking from the mouth of a skull. A plump, red-haired woman weeping. A slender, red-haired woman, dead. A blood-red ring, a bloodstained book, a shimmering cloak, a wand...

"Enough!" His voice thundered. The vision broke.

It had been every bit as disjointed as her own vision back on Takodana, and left her similarly drained. "What was that?" she found herself repeating. Her voice shook.

Albus frowned at her. "Natural Legilimens," he murmured to himself. "That would explain how you turned the tables on your Kylo Ren."

"He isn't _mine_ ," spat Rey. "Unless you mean my enemy."

Albus's blue eyes were uncomfortably piercing. "Yes, of course, my dear." Then his eyes unfocused and drifted away as they had so often of late. "Pity I dare not introduce you to Severus. But perhaps..." His gaze snapped back to her face. "There is someone I want you to meet," he said decisively. "You saw him, just now. I believe you may be able to help each other."

"I'd like to help," said Rey. "You've taught me so much, and I know it's taken you away from your work..."

"Fighting darkness _is_  my work, child. Wherever it may appear."

* * *

By the time the students returned to the school, Rey had learned everything she could about Harry Potter. The most useful information came not from the library or even from Albus, but rather from Chewie — and his large, hairy friend. 

"Harry's the best sort you'll ever meet," Hagrid proclaimed staunchly. "Had a rough time of it this year, he has, but there's not many who'd bear up half as well under half the load as our Harry. Course, he's all fired up to join the Order... I shouldn'ta said that."

Chewie glanced meaningfully at Rey.

"The Jedi Order?" she asked eagerly.

Hagrid shook his head. "I never heard it called that — hush, now, here they come!" He threw the door to his hut open. In blew a whirl of snow, a bushy-haired girl and a red-headed boy. 

"You're back!" exclaimed Hagrid. "Where's Harry?" He sounded worried.

"He's trying to speak to Dumbledore again," the girl said with a sigh. Then she saw Rey, and her eyes narrowed. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"Please say you're the new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher," the boy pleaded. "Umbridge is a ruddy nightmare!"

Hagrid stepped in before Rey could come up with a suitable reply. "She's a... er... new student of Dumbledore's."

The boy crossed his arms. "Dumbledore has time for a private student, but he can't even see Harry about—"

"Ronald!" hissed the girl. 

"Please," said Rey, "it's not what you think." At least, she didn’t think it was. Albus played his cards very close to his chest — too close for Rey’s comfort, but then again, she had never had secrets to keep until recently. She shied away from even the memory of her own vision. "I’m from... somewhere far, far away. I sort of dropped onto Albus’s doorstep out of the blue, and I have very little time here. That is, I hope so." Rey winced. Her first meeting with these young wizards she wanted for allies, and here she started by insulting their planet. "Not that it isn’t very nice here. I love your snow! But I have an important mission, and I have no way of getting back... where I’m from... and Albus is trying to help me." 

With every word, she watched their disbelief grow. It would have been easy to dismiss them as mere children, but Rey had fought off slavers at their age. They might well be members of the not-Jedi Order that Hagrid had talked about. 

Rey took a deep breath and tried again. Albus could keep his secrets. She chose to share hers. "I'm from another galaxy.  I was trying to reach a lost planet where the last Jedi lives. I suppose you could call him a wizard,  _the_ last wizard." Rey swallowed. "The Resistance needs his help to defeat a dark Jedi. I need him to teach me the ways of the Force. Only I wound up here, instead of there, so Albus is trying to teach me instead, at least until I can leave. Which I can't yet, because your planet isn't in any of our charts and we don't want to fly through a black hole." Rey took a deep breath. Now was probably not the time to discuss the hazards of hyperspace. But since she had already determined not to keep any more secrets... "Albus wants me to teach your friend Harry something called occlumency? I'm not sure what it is, but he said I have a talent for it." 

Ronald and the girl (who Rey assumed was Hermione Granger, based on Hagrid's stories) exchanged a dubious look. "You aren't a friend of Luna's, are you?" 

That was not the question Rey had expected. "Do you mean... the moon?" she asked hesitantly. Just how advanced was stellar cartography on this planet, anyway?

The boy burst out laughing. The girl stepped forward and stretched out her hand with a smile. "I'm Hermione Granger," she introduced herself formally. "This lout is Ron Weasley. Are you really from another galaxy? With humans in it? How is that possible?"

"What she means to say is  _nice to meet you, glad you're not a mental case_ ," said Ron. "What's your name, anyway?"

"Rey. Just... Rey." 

Ron grinned at her. "Just to be clear, everything you said _does_ sound mental. But I guess it's no stranger than any other day around Hogwarts."

Hermione ignored him in favor of interrogating Rey. "How does magic work where you're from?"

Ron and Hagrid settled back to watch. Money may have changed hands beneath the table; Rey wondered what the bet was, and how she could get in on it.

She tried to keep it simple. "From what Albus has said, they sound a lot alike to me. Magic and the Force, I mean."

"Oh, but there are so many different branches of magic!” enthused Hermione. “Transfiguration, arithmancy, occlumency, alchemy — are any of those like what the Jedi use?"

Rey had yet to make a transfiguration spell work for her, and the other disciplines Hermione mentioned sounded utterly foreign. She had to say something. She couldn’t very well profess to be a Jedi in training and then not know anything about them. "Jedi can move rocks with their minds," Rey blurted.

Ron sniggered.

"That sounds like wandless magic," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"So you don’t have any wands?" asked Ron. He pointed at Rey’s belt. "What’s that, then?"

Finally, a question she could answer. Rey smiled, ignited her lightsaber, and calmly split Hagrid's entire woodpile in two. Then she gestured like Albus had taught her, and the logs stitched themselves back together. 

"Ye could'a left it," commented Hagrid. "I've got to split it before burnin' it all anyway." 

Rey reversed the gesture, and the logs fell apart again.

"Merlin’s soggy pants," said Ron reverently.

When Rey could breathe again, she saw to her astonishment that she was the only one laughing. "Do you all swear like that here?" she asked.

"Most wizarding epithets do involve Merlin," answered Hermione with a disapproving look at Ron, "but Muggle words are common too." She hesitated, clearly torn between propriety and curiosity. "Why, how do Jedi swear?"

Rey frowned. "I don’t know whether Jedi are supposed to swear, but a lot of the older generation — the ones alive during the Rebellion, or even the Clone Wars — still use _sithspit_  and _sithspawn_..."

Ron laughed. "Sith? Is that because they can’t spell _shit_?"

"Ronald!" Hermione smacked him on the arm.

"What’s a sith?" asked Ron, undaunted.

"Like the Jedi, but they only use the Dark Side of the Force," explained Rey. "What do you call a dark wizard?"

"Slytherin," responded Ron promptly, earning him another smack on the arm from Hermione.

"We just call them dark wizards," the latter clarified with a sniff. "Although followers of You-Know-Who are called Death Eaters."

"Who?" Rey looked at the other girl blankly. Albus had never used that term.

"You-Know— oh, but you don’t, do you?" Hermione looked flustered. "His name is... well, no one ever says it, it’s sort of taboo. His name is—"

"Voldemort," said a new voice.

Rey noted Ron’s flinch and Hermione’s gasp even as she turned to face the newcomer. "You must be Harry Potter," she guessed. 

The dark-haired boy smiled ruefully. "Do people know who I am even in another galaxy, then?" 

Rey wondered how long he had been listening at the window. She smiled at him and shook her head. "Never heard of you," she reassured him. He looked unaccountably relieved. "Not until Albus told me, at any rate," she amended. "Do you know why he has so many names?"

Harry stared at her for a moment, and then a slow grin broke across his face. "Has anyone introduced her to Luna?" he asked the world at large. "Because I want to be there for that."

"Luna wasn't on the train," Hermione said with a frown.

"Didn't she say something about taking a portkey to Hogsmeade?" asked Harry.

"That's Luna," said Ron fondly. "She always turns up when you least expect."

* * *

**Meanwhile, on Ach-to**

Luke stared at the interloper who had mysteriously arrived without a ship. Not even a boat. "How did you get here?" he demanded.

The girl with dirty-blonde hair was holding a battered boot, frowning at it, and poking it with a stick. She looked up, examining the cliffs, the ocean, the circling seabirds, and finally Luke himself. "Is this Ireland?" she asked curiously.

Luke stopped mid-stride. "What? No. How did you—"

She nodded sagely. "I told Daddy the centrifugal forces were off-kilter."

Luke’s mouth opened and closed. "But how..."

The young woman dropped the boot, tucked the stick behind her ear, and looked at him pityingly. "Have you been infested long?"

Luke gaped like a fish.

She stepped closer and patted his arm. "Don’t worry," she said in a consoling voice. "I have lots of experience with wrackspurts."


End file.
